


Lazy Day

by fardareismai



Series: Make The World Better Promo [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, canon 'verse, day in the life, fulfilled prompt, unrelenting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9562511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fardareismai/pseuds/fardareismai
Summary: A day in the life on the Tenth Doctor's TARDIS.An absurdly fluffy addition to my Make The World Better Promo.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story for FreshlyPickledPancakes who, a few days ago when it was her turn to get food for her roommate and herself, met a homeless woman on her way home and gave that woman her portion of the food.
> 
> For her generosity and general awesomeness, I have written her the prompt "Tenth Doctor x Rose - just a day in the life inside the TARDIS, what do they get up to when they are not saving the universe?"

On the rare occasions that he slept (more as something to do in the long, quiet hours she spent asleep and apart from him than from any need) he was always awake before her, so he always made breakfast.

Some days that just meant toast and tea, left to get cold in the galley kitchen because he'd gotten distracted by something. Other days he was there at the stove when Rose stumbled in, sleepy and rumpled. He would smile at her and set a mug of tea in front of her. In early days, he would try to talk to her before her first cup of tea was finished, but he'd quickly learned that his girl took time to wake.

That was alright though. On the days he was in the galley, it gave him time to finish scrambling eggs or flipping pancakes. On the days he wasn't, he rarely saw her before she'd showered and dressed anyway.

Once she was fully awake and coherent, she always asked the same question: "what are we doing today?"

Most days it was the name of a planet. They both knew that when he named a planet, he wouldn't aim for trouble, but the pair of them would doubtless find it. On occasion the TARDIS, in a fit of pity, would land them somewhen that didn't need their help, but those days were few and far between.

Other days it was the name of an event. Sometimes it was an event he wanted to change. Sometimes it was one he wanted to witness. Sometimes one he wanted to show her.

They usually found trouble at those as well.

Very rarely, on bright, sparkling days that were set like jewels in her memories in the lonely months apart from him, he didn't have an answer to that question.

"No plans today, Rose Tyler. What do you want to do?"

The first time he had made the offer, she'd brought him home to see her mother. He hadn't made it again until he was a different man, and she hadn't made the same mistake. She had shrugged and smiled and said "we'll come up with something."

They'd eaten breakfast together slowly, savoring the food, the company, the calm, and the infinite possibility of the day laid out in front of them. They talked about everything and nothing, about dogs with no noses, and ferrets with three noses, about flightless birds, and flying reptiles. They lingered over their tea, neither one wanting to start the day, because that meant it would eventually end.

Even in a TARDIS, however, time passes, tea grows cold, and food gets eaten, so finally he rose and offered her his hand to lead her out of the galley and into the ship.

His girls were in league against him, however, and Rose ran off ahead of him, down a corridor that appeared to open ahead of her as the TARDIS led her through. He ran after her, trainers slapping on the grating, following the flashes of pink and yellow and the echo of her laughter.

He heard the door close ahead of him and picked up his pace to find himself before a door that he hadn't seen in almost two lifetimes.

He pushed open the door to the heavy hot air and, without peeking in, called her name.

"Rose? Rose, you haven't got a bathing suit. What are you doing in here? I didn't agree to skinny dipping."

He could hear her laughter echoing across the great chamber.

"Dimensionally-transcendental, right Doctor? My suit was here when I got here. Yours probably is too, just ask."

"Are you decent? Can I…?"

"I'm in the dressing room."

He entered the natatorium with that assurance, impressed at the changes. Peri had had one, in her day. Hers had been bright white and intended for exercise. Rose's swimming pool was obviously designed less for aerobics and more for fun and relaxation. The walls were a muted gold with jewel-bright mosaics, and he could tell that the water in the pool was warm. There were also mats for floating as well as chaise lounges lined up along the edge of the water. It looked like a pool from a high-end resort, and wondered if the TARDIS had borrowed her design from something in Rose's mind.

It was something he wanted to ask, but knew he never would. New man- still a coward.

Rose chose that moment to emerge from the dressing room, and all thoughts in the Doctor's massive brain stuttered to a halt for an infinitesimal moment as he took her in.

The suit was as brief as all such outfits were, and no more so than was common in Rose's time. In fact, considering her time, it was positively modest, as the Doctor's brain insisted on informing him once it managed to begin working again as it should.

The trouble was that even the most modest of swimwear that contained Rose Tyler was, so far as the Doctor was concerned, worthy of the most shameful of Jack's favorite periodicals. Though, if he were being honest with himself (a thing he tended to do as rarely as possible), that was true of any piece of clothing that Rose chose to wear, from ballgown to gunny sack.

She, on the other hand, appeared perfectly indifferent to him or his admiration and, without hardly even glancing at him, jumped feet-first into the water. The displacement sent a small wave over the Doctor's trainers, soaking them, and causing him to glare up at the ceiling.

Unless he was much mistaken about the physics of the situation (and he was _never_ mistaken about basic physics) Rose's small form should not have displaced enough water to soak his shoes, which meant the TARDIS was trying to tell him something.

Something along the lines of "take off your shoes, put on your suit, and jump in with her, you numpty."

Not that a pan-dimensional, vortex-traveling, universe-spanning, sentient ship of time and starlight would ever lower herself to playing matchmaker.

The psychic hum he received in return for this line of thought was decidedly nonchalant and the Doctor shook his head and returned his attention to Rose, nearly swallowing his tongue at the sight of her, sleek and wet as a seal, floating like a starfish on her back, vulnerable and relaxed in the cradle of the water.

No, he determined, he could not stay. He could not be trusted.

"It looks like you're comfortable," he said quickly, stumbling toward the door out of the pool room. "If you need me, I'll be in-"

Damn the TARDIS, he thought. Damn her to the Howling. They should both have been consumed by the Nightmare Child in the War. He should have left her behind in that blasted junkyard to be decommissioned. One of the newer models would never have been so opinionated and troublesome.

His foot hit a patch of water that had not been on the perfectly clean floor when he'd walked in. He knew it. He had perfect memory and could have sworn on the holy books of 10,000 religions across 100 galaxies that it had not been there.

It was there, however, and it was slippery, and it sent the Doctor sprawling. Or would have done on a normal floor. In the natatorium, it sent him spinning, fully-clothed, into Rose's warm pool, practically into her wet, slippery, and infinitely desirable arms.

"Doctor!" Rose cried, swimming to him as he swallowed water, choked, and splashed in his shock and annoyance with finding himself suddenly completely out of his element. A Time Lord in water, as the old Earth cliche absolutely did not go.

After some minutes of struggling (Converse trainers were in no way appropriate swimwear, nor were suit jackets, slim-fit trousers, or silk neckties), the Doctor and Rose managed to get him to the side of the swimming pool where he could cling to the edge and catch his breath.

Rose was all apologetic solicitude, helping the Doctor out of the pool (and if he put his hands on her mostly-unclad form more than he should have, well he'd had a shock) and into a towel, insisting that he go immediately and change his clothes before he caught his death of a cold (unlikely on the TARDIS, though she was remarkably silent about this breach), and offering to make tea and bring it to the library for him.

The Doctor should have argued. He should have told Rose that he could dry his clothes nearly instantly with his sonic, even if the TARDIS herself wasn't willing to do so. Should have said he was perfectly capable of making his own tea. Should have insisted that she deserved her relaxing swim and didn't need to worry about him.

He did none of these things- the temptation of a shared sofa in the library, and Rose falling asleep against his shoulder as he read to her from the Harry Potter series while her perfectly-made tea steamed gently in a cup at his elbow was too tempting, and the Doctor had never been one to resist temptation.

Well… not _most_ temptation.


End file.
